


i want it

by anzhelo



Category: Borderlands
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Panic Attack, Timmy and Jack are twins, tim won't have none of your gender roles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-17
Updated: 2016-10-18
Packaged: 2018-08-23 00:03:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8306182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anzhelo/pseuds/anzhelo
Summary: tim just wants to wear a dress is all





	1. Chapter 1

Jack padded over to the bare mattress that served as a bed for both him and his brother. He sat down, the creaky springs protesting under his weight. Wrapping an arm around Tim, the seven year old gently took the worn, ripped t-shirt from his crying brother's hands. 

It was his favorite shirt, and more importantly, one of the few he had left. Now it was ripped right down the middle, a chunk of cloth hanging by a few threads on the back. For the twins, it was beyond repair. Jack pulled Tim into a hug, feeling his brother's tears against his shoulder. 

"We can go out and get you a new shirt," Jack whispered, "And it'll be even better than this one." 

Tim didn't know what shirt could be better than his soft, oversized tee, but he trusted Jack. He always trusted Jack, and in turn, Jack rarely let him down. 

The boys gathered their money, a whopping five dollars. They were lucky enough to find it on the sidewalk and kept it hidden under a floorboard. Jack took Tim's hand and pulled the young twin along, down the shaky stairs, sneaking past the worn recliner that only grandma could use, and out the door. 

Jack could already see his brother perking up as they left the house; he was the least shy kid he knew, even after loosing his favorite possession he was eager to greet passerby's with a huge smile. 

The walk to the thrift store turned into a race, which Jack won easily. He entered without his brother, who wheezed and pleaded for him to wait up. Once inside, they tried hard not to be distracted, because yes the toys were only fifty cents, and yes that was Snow White on VHS, but every time they indulged their toys ended up broken, or taken away and THEN broken. They had learned to use their imagination for the most part, but Timothy could make some dolls out of flowers in a pinch. 

Jack searched under the gum ball machines for quarters while he let his brother look for a new shirt. He thought about how one day he'd be so rich, he'd leave a quarter in every gum ball machine he saw. His train of thought was derailed upon seeing a shiny coin right against the corner of the wall. Jack grabbed it and dusted it off, excitement turning into disappointment. It was just an arcade token. As far as he knew, there were no arcades in town. He pocketed it anyway. 

Jack decided to check on Tim, and made his way to the rack with the kid-sized clothes. Tim was just standing and staring at something, which usually meant he found something he liked. Jack stood next to him, looking up what what had caught his interest. He wrinkled his nose, it was a plain white dress with a red sash, a little on the poofy side, with buttons down the back and short sleeves meant to cup around the shoulders. The yellow sticker told them it was three dollars. 

"Timmy," Jack said, nudging his brother and breaking the spell, "Don't tell me you want THAT..." 

"Pretty," Timothy said quietly. 

"Dresses are for girls, Timmy." 

In response, Tim toddled up to the dress, grabbing the sides and burying his face into the skirt. Smudging his face against something meant he claimed it as his own, just ask the cat. Or Jack. Or Tim's food before he eats it. 

Jack sighed, assuming there was no point arguing now. If a dress made Tim happy, then so be it. Standing on his tippy-toes, Jack pulled the dress off the rack, assuming Tim was following him as he went to check out. He smacked the dress and the five dollars on the counter. 

After paying and leaving, Tim was eager to wear the dress right away. Grabbing the plastic bag it was in, he hopped into the portapotty by the ball park to change, too excited to care about the smell. 

He stepped out with a huge grin on his face, and Jack had to smile too.


	2. Chapter 2

Frank was yowling inside of her carrier, not stopping despite Tim's frantic shushing. Wilhelm wanted Timothy to forget the cat and sit in the passenger's seat next to him, but the younger man insisted that their pet needed reassurance after her stressful appointment with the vet. 

The ride home was uneventful, up until Wilhelm decided to make a quick stop. He needed car parts or something, whatever mechanic stuff Wil did was usually beyond Timothy. He was content with window shopping while his boyfriend disappeared into a body shop sandwiched between an antique store and a diner. It was cloudy, with an ever-present threat of rain looming over the sleepy town. Tim stared through the diner window until someone stared back, and abruptly left. He tried to join Wil in the body shop, but the door was heavy. He wrestled with it for a minute or so before giving up and peeking over at the antique shop. 

The wood was old enough, the paint peeling almost everywhere. Once it used to be a vibrant green, but Tim only saw a swampy gray. In the dusty window were the usual things; a typewriter, an ancient school desk, a few chalk dolls. He squinted past the harsh reflection of the streetlight against the gritty pane, and saw a dress on display near the back. 

It was lacy, white, a little small on the waist but maybe Tim could still fit in it. Around it was a faded red sash. Tim stared. Something in his chest was aching, making his heart flutter painfully. 

Wilhelm exited the shop and shot a look at Timothy as he opened the car door. 

"Aye, Tim, c'mon," he grunted, gesturing to his seat, and the angry caged cat next to it. When the younger man didn't respond, Wilhelm trudged up next to him. "Whatcha looking at," he asked, "The typewriter?" 

"The dress," Tim murmured softly, weakly, catching Wilhelm off guard. 

"Why're you lookin' at a dress," Wilhelm said stiffly. He's only met with silence by his partner, a heavy static that dragged on for a minute or so. Looking down, he saw that Tim's eyes were watery. His voice quieted. "Tim?" 

He could see the younger man's hands trembling slightly, and with a few gentle nudges, led him back into the car. Wilhelm sat next to him in the back, a large hand clasped over Tim's shoulder. 

"What's bothering you," Wilhelm said blankly, causing Timothy to curl in on himself slightly. 

"I remember..."

"What?" 

"When Jack and I were little..." 

Tim didn't often bring up his childhood, not that keeping it all in was good for the man. When he did, it was times like these, seeing a little thing that reminded him of something his brain deemed important. Wilhelm listened without commentary at Tim's story of when he was seven, maybe, and Grandma tore his most favorite shirt ever. He told Wilhelm about finding a white dress with a red sash at a thrift store, and wearing it all the way home. 

Wilhelm thought about what Jack said about Timothy; he was such an outgoing kid, apparently. Now it was hard to even get him to answer the phone. Or go to the supermarket. Hell, some days Tim couldn't bring himself to go outside. Wilhelm always wondered what it must've took to break Timothy like this. 

"Grandma saw it right away," Tim mumbled, picking at his arm as he always did when he was this nervous. Wilhelm rested a hand on his wrist to make him stop. 

"She was angry," Tim continued, arms stilled now, "She ripped it off and got rid of it." Wilhelm knew by now the emotionless tone in which Tim delivered his story was just a way to keep himself from crying. Too much physical affection could trigger the waterworks too, so Wilhelm kept the touches to minimum, with only their hands clasped together. 

"She hurt you two?" Wilhelm asked gruffly, and Tim nodded, of course she did. He was silent now, stuck in his own thoughts. Wilhelm kissed Tim's forehead, patting his hands before standing and exiting the car. The door closed behind him with a thud, and Tim just kept staring at nothing while little beads of water began snaking down his window. 

Wilhelm returned not too long after, tossing a long white box in the empty passenger's seat and driving wordlessly. It was silent the entire way back, aside for Frank's growling and the soft patter of rainfall.


	3. Chapter 3

Tim knew what was in the white box, but when he opened it he gasped anyway. 

Nothing could beat his white dress, the cloud-soft puffy skirt, the sash as red and sweet as a candy cane, the way it swirled around his scraped knobby knees like a circle of snowflakes. 

But somehow, Wil's gift felt just as good. 

The skirt didn't poof, it fall down Tim's hips like wilted petals. The sash wasnt vibrant, it was the same dull red that edged Tim's watery eyes and nose. It couldn't beat the magic of Tim's first dress, and yet for the the first time, Timothy liked what he saw in his mirror. He could hear Wilhelm from the living room of their little house, asking for Tim to come out of the bathroom, that he wanted to see his boyfriend. 

Tim faltered as he passed the door, grip on the doorknob tightening. He bit his trembling lip hard, suddenly feeling too exposed, too vulnerable. The dress felt temporary on his back, like someone (and he knew who that someone would be) would rip it off. He could feel Wihelm's gaze on him and it hurt, despite his boyfriend's best intentions to make Tim comfortable like this. 

Timothy wanted to just curl up and disappear, be chipped away by the rain outside, but suddenly Wilhelm's hands snapped him out of his cold trance. Tim looked up at his partner's soft smile, too soft for such hardened features. It was so unlike grandma's; her smooth, young-looking pretty face with a vile grin that made Tim want to vomit. 

"You look great, Tim," Wilhelm offered, but the younger man didn't say anything. He just looked up at his partner, silent, trembling. Tim felt skittish, scared even, but of what, he didn't know. He just felt a lump in his throat telling him to run, collapse, and cry all at once. 

Instead Tim swallowed the majority of his panic down and thanked Wilhelm, timidly. He felt an arm loop around his back, nudging Timothy closer until he was nestled against Wilhelm, the rest of his anxiety ebbing away ever so slowly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> had to cut this one short because of an awful headache heh...anyway hope you enjoyed.

**Author's Note:**

> let me know about spelling errors and all that thanks


End file.
